A/N: Mark and Derek are my Meredith and Cristina. I love the two of them and their 'bromance' a ridiculous amount. And that was the one thing missing from the S6 finale for me - Mark finding out that Derek had been shot. I am really hoping that it'll be a scene in the S7 premiere because I need to see it. I woke up a couple of hours ago and the idea wouldn't leave me alone so I figured I might as well just get it down. So this is my take on Mark learning that his brother, who he assumed was fine, almost died.
And if anyone reading this reads my other Grey's Anatomy fic 'Beautiful Disaster' (if you don't do because it's awesome - at least I think it is) then an update is coming. I'm in the middle of exams so I've had a tonne of revision - plus a skydiving trip - but an update will be here soon.
He was in control. When that gun went off and he had pulled Lexie to the ground, holding her tightly as the screams echoed around them, and as he got her to safety, he was in control. When the elevator doors slid open to reveal Karev lying there in blood soaked scrubs, his skin that pale greyish colour that was never a good sign, he was in control. When he had called for help, demanding the police to get them a way out of here, knowing that there would be others in the hospital doing the exact same as him, he was in control. When he had promised Alex that he wouldn't kill him, that he would be okay, he was in control.
He was in control.
Mark couldn't hear what Lexie was saying but he stared as her lips, those lips that he was all too familiar with, formed words that he knew were ones that begged Alex to live because she loved him. One hand was clasped tightly in his and the other was stroking his hair as she spoke. He couldn't stay there and watch that, it was too much.
Pushing himself off the counter that he had been leaning against for far too long, he approached Alex's hospital room.
"Hey Lex," he said, knocking gently on the doorframe. She jumped slightly, startled by his unexpected presence. He tried to ignore the pain he felt as he saw the tears that were welling in her eyes, the tears that were for someone else. "I'm going to take off and try and find Derek or something. He's probably running around like a headless chicken somewhere, trying to sort all of…"
He trailed off and gestured vaguely with his hands. How he could put what happened into words? Some crazy bastard had come into the hospital and hurt and killed people, people he saw every day. The floor behind the nurses' station was now stained with the blood of that nurse who would always schedule his surgeries after nine if he gave her his trademark smile and bought her a hazelnut coffee. He had overhead someone saying that Reed had been found dead, shot in the head. They'd had sex that one time but she had never chased after him or taken it as something more. He had gone back to treating her like another random resident the next morning. Now he wished he had been a little nicer to her when he had the chance. She didn't deserve to die like that, no one did.
"Why would someone do this?" Lexie said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He wasn't sure he had ever seen her so vulnerable.
"I don't know. I really don't know."
He hesitated and pondered whether to say something more. He wanted to hold her and tell that it would all be okay. Tell her that he would never leave her again because everything that had happened today made him realise just how much he regretted ever letting her go. But his gaze drifted to her hand that was entwined with Alex's and he shook those thoughts from his head.
"You sure you don't want me to stay?"
"No I'm okay. Really," she said when she spotted the doubting look on his face. "Derek is going to need a lot of help with…" She mimicked his earlier hand gesture. "Go be his wingman or whatever."
"Wingman? Really?"
He raised an eyebrow and the little giggle she gave let them feel, just for a moment, like the past few hours had all been just some horrific nightmare.
"I'll see you in a bit."
With that, he knocked on the doorframe one last time and walked away.
It felt like he was walking in a disaster zone as he made his way through area of Seattle Pres that all SGMW people had been herded into. Unfamiliar doctors and nurses were rushing in all directions and there were police stationed outside a number of different rooms, as well as many simply patrolling the hallways. There were people he recognised, simply from passing them everyday, with blood on their scrubs and bandages hiding various injuries. Small groups of people were huddled together, some crying and some merely in shock. He watched as a doctor declared the time of death and he forced himself to not think about who was lying in that bed, who it was that had worked in the very same hospital as him that was now dead. He turned away and spotted Callie over on the other side, pulling a bed into one of the vacant rooms.
As he continued to survey the devastation that had occurred because of one lunatic who thought he could solve everything with a gun, he sent a silent thanks that everyone he loved and cared for in that hospital was okay.
It was his third loop around the area and he still hadn't spotted Derek. He kept expecting to see him shouting out orders, stressed at dealing with a situation he had no idea about. He wasn't blind, he could see how the chief job was getting to him, and this, this was just another thing that he didn't need. But he was Derek and his stubborn pride would mean that he would force himself to be the leader that everyone needed right now. That was the difference between the two of them. Derek liked to take charge and be there for everyone, even if it was hard on him, because that was what he did. Whereas Mark, he preferred to be in the background and be the one who was asking for the help and support most of the time. He knew that in their relationship, Derek would look out for Mark and try and stop him screwing up quite as much as he should, and in return Mark would be the one there for Derek when it all got a little too much, be it by hitting golf balls off the roof or letting him scream at him after his father died. It was how they worked.
And right now, Derek needed Mark, he knew that. People had died, people had been hurt, and the hospital was no longer the safe place it had been. It was up to Derek to sort all of that out and Mark would help him. If only he could find him.
"There are only so many places one person can be," he muttered as he came to a stop by the nurses' station once again.
A blonde nurse was scrabbling through a bunch of files and he tapped her lightly on the arm. She looked up at him startled and he was proud of himself that he didn't notice how cute she was or how she had these lips that….
'Not the time Mark.'
"Have you seen Dr…Chief Shepherd?"
"Who?"
"Chief Shepherd from Seattle Grace."
"No sorry."
Before he had a chance to ask another question, she had grabbed a file and was almost running towards another room.
He ran a hand through his hair and cast another glance around the room in the vain hope that Derek would have appeared in the last few seconds, that Mark had failed to spot him those first five times. But there was no sign of him.
For the first time, a worrying little niggle crept into his mind. It was the same niggle he had felt that morning back when he was ten and he had gone over to the Shepherd house to get Derek for school and there had been no one home.
No. He suppressed that train of thought almost immediately. Just because Derek wasn't here didn't mean he was… He could be outside dealing with the press or back at Seattle Grace handling the police and SWAT teams that would still be there.
He was fine.
'This is Derek Shepherd. I can't take your call right now but leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I possibly can."
He hung up before the beep, trying not to laugh at the difference between Derek's formal sounding voicemail and his 'Hey it's Mark. Leave me a message. Or don't. But don't text me, it's gay' which had led to Derek texting him every time he didn't answer his phone.
He stuffed his phone back into the pocket of his scrubs and leant against the outer wall of Seattle Pres.
So Derek wasn't answering his phone. But he was going to be rushed off his feet right now and he wasn't going to have time to even glance at his phone, let alone answer it.
He was fine.
He would go and sit with Lexie for a bit. Sure it would kill him to see her with Alex but she needed support right now. Or maybe Callie could use some help with her patients. And while he was doing that, Derek would show up. Because Derek was fine.
He was fine.
"I heard that she saw it all."
"It's so sad."
"I know. I would be a mess if I was her."
Mark rolled his eyes as he walked past a group of interns that were stood gossiping. There was nothing like a tragedy to set the grapevine alight.
As Mark re-entered the hospital ward, he was surprised to see Owen stood chatting to an unfamiliar doctor.
"You got shot?" he asked as he approached.
A look of surprise passed over Owen's face as he turned to him and he gestured to the sling that was supported Owen's left arm.
"Yeah. I've had a lot worse." There was a pause. "What are you doing here?"
"Karev got shot and I, well we, me and Lexie, we brought him here. He should be alright."
"No I meant that, I thought you'd be…I thought you and…" Owen trailed off and he stared at Mark silently for a moment before something seemed to dawn on him. "You don't know."
"Know what?"
The quiet that enveloped them was deafening and Mark could already feel the wave of emotion rushing over him as the implications of Owen's silence hit him.
"Derek got shot didn't he?"
The thought he hadn't wanted to express escaped him without him even realising.
"He had a gunshot wound to the chest. He had to have surgery and he lost a lot of blood but he's going to be okay."
Mark felt the familiar burn of bile as it rose in his throat. His brother had been shot. His brother had almost died.
"Mark," he said, reaching out a hand to him but he pushed him away and instead raced for the nearest exit.
He blindly pushed open a door labelled fire exit and found himself out on an empty stairwell. The image of Derek lying somewhere in a pool of his own blood filled his mind and, as tears stung in his eyes, he couldn't help himself. He retched once and then threw up violently all over his trainers.
He wasn't in control. He wasn't fine.